


Cornered

by justalittlegreen



Series: Sunshine and Filth [22]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 21:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21326722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justalittlegreen/pseuds/justalittlegreen
Relationships: B. J. Hunnicutt/Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce
Series: Sunshine and Filth [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1173266
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44





	Cornered

Sometimes, Sidney thinks, it would be easier if he _had_ met someone over here. Distraction is a currency more valuable than most things, in the war, but people have a habit of showing Sid their broken sides before he asks. The confessions and questions come spilling over drinks in a dozen tin-shack bars; they weep their insecurities at him. Even the toughest.

His letters home are short on details and long on stories; he turns the people he's met into fantastic creatures on a mythical adventure and imagines his Molly reading them to their son. There's Hawkeye, the wily cat who always pulls the gang out of a scrape; BJ, the tender collie who never lets anyone get left behind; Mephistopheles the fox (because whoever heard of a fox named Margaret?) who has the beautiful tail and a shrill bark and enough cleverness to run the outfit. There's Pax the white horse, who carries the gang along, 'Fraidy the cat, who's meek until the moment's right, and The Mysterious Max, who can shift from skin to skin, inhabiting any number of animals.

Through his letters, he's able to give them a glimpse of the love and admiration he's built for them all. _I saw Hawkeye get caught in a tight spot today,_ he wrote once. _He was chasing after something very small, something he needed to catch, and wedged himself into a very small corner in the attempt. Most cats would have panicked, especially when rain began to leak through the roof right on his neck - but not Hawkeye. He held on and kept scrambling long past the time when another, less determined animal would have given up. And lucky he did - he was rescued when Pax came galloping along to show him the way out, with a nice steady voice. Hawkeye not only made it out with his prize, he turned around to look for two more._

Well. That was one way to describe a piece of shrapnel in an aorta.

In his last two visits, he's bunked in the VIP tent, officially, but attaches himself to Francis for meals and whenever he's not playing poker or poking patients. They'll eavesdrop on each other in Post-Op, filing away bits of information that the other might be able to use later. Francis refers all the Jewish soldiers to him, which Sidney thinks is a very misguided attempt at solidarity, and often ends up referring them right back. His isn't a spiritual practice. As for him, he saves the skeptics for Francis - the boys who huff and grumble when he mentions his specialty. "I don't need a head shrink," becomes the fastest way to get a visit from the Father.

At night, he joins Francis for his rounds of the camp, often stopping at the Swamp for a drink or a round of poker, and once - just once - they repeat the ritual Francis showed him, of helping Hawkeye or BJ back to bed. This time, Sidney doesn't hide in the shadows. He stokes the fire in their tent while Francis gently shakes BJ awake. He hears the short gasp behind him as BJ realizes there's more than one other person in the tent, and Francis's easy hush. Sid has his back to them, but can imagine the soft, reassuring gesture Francis makes. BJ crosses the tent and gets back into bed without a word.

The next morning, Sidney's pondering over a late cup of coffee when he sees BJ come into the near-empty mess tent. Francis is off administering sacraments or something else out of his realm; Hawkeye's in Post-Op with a tricky infection. The rest of the camp appears to be hiding in the relative dryness of their tents on a rainy day.

"BJ!" Sidney calls, gesturing him over with his mug. BJ pauses for just a second, then fills his cup and saunters over. 

"Thanks for saving me a seat," he says, his voice lighter than the trepidation on his face. "How'd you sleep?"

"Very well," Sidney replies. "And you?"

BJ's face is instantly on guard. Sidney can practically see the tiny muscles tightening around his mouth. "I was pretty drunk last night," BJ says carefully. "I don't really remember a thing. I guess that means I did sleep well."

"BJ," Sid says softly, almost too quietly to be heard over the noise on the canvas roof. "Father Mulcahy would not have brought me anywhere I couldn't be trusted."

BJ drops his head into his hands and says something into his coffee cup. 

"I beg your pardon?"

BJ lifts his head and looks like he's about to say something, then stops himself, shakes his head. "Oh, I trust you, Sidney," he finally says. "At least, I think I can."

"Let me guess," Sidney says. "You panicked when a priest found you in bed with your bunkie, and Hawkeye convinced you it was all right."

BJ scoffs, a dark laugh. "You've got it backwards," he says bitterly. "Nobody found us anywhere. I confessed, and Hawkeye nearly killed me. Or himself. I'm still not sure how that would've gone if the choppers hadn't given us a 40-hour surgical marathon immediately following my revelation."

"You confessed?" Sid can't keep the incredulity out of his voice.

"I don't live well with guilt," BJ says simply. "And I'm not Catholic, but he's not picky. I made him swear about eight times that he'd honor the spirit of the confessional." He leans in, a smirk playing across his lips. "I'm lucky his standards are low. Most priests wouldn't grant confession to a lapsed Episcopalian." 

"He's offered me the same," Sidney admits. "So, whatever he said eased your mind?"

BJ closes his eyes for a minute and nods. "Yeah."

Sidney waits. If BJ can tell him, he will. The two drink in silence, listening to the rain, but the answer doesn't come.

"What happened when Hawkeye found out?"

"Oh, you know him. He chewed me out. He was terrified. He told me a story about a kid who'd come through the unit, beat to hell by his so-called buddies," BJ can't keep the fear and disgust out of his voice as he tells it. "He was sure we were going to get turned in. Blue discharges. Years in Leavenworth. A life of disgrace. He was laying it out for me, giving me the gruesome details of what our lives would surely be when Radar pounded on the supply shed door, yelling about choppers."

"And then?"

"Well, we were in surgery for the next two days."

"And that was?"

"Two months ago."

"And it never came up again?"

"Nope. I suspect it will, though. He wasn't sleeping when you came in."

"Ah. I suppose I should talk to him, then."

"Maybe you should."

"BJ?"

"Mm?"

"You know your secret is safe with me, right?"

BJ nods, unconvincingly. Sidney rubs a hand over his chin, thinking of how he would spin this into a tale to be read later. "It's not just that," he adds, finding the words that the BJ of his stories would need to hear. "You don't just have my silence, BJ. I won't let this information be used to harm you - or him. At least, to the best of my ability. I'll always be in your corner." 

The words land. BJ's shoulders sag like he's been holding them up with iron. Sidney reaches across the table and cuffs his shoulder, gripping it as firmly as he dares. "Shall we go find him?" he suggests.

"Yeah," BJ says. "If I know him, he'll be panicking in the laundry tent and singing opera at the top of his lungs."

Sidney chuckles. "I think it's a good day for a company sock wash, don't you?" BJ finally smiles as the two of them leave the mess and dash across the camp.


End file.
